Here With Me
by whatthemellark
Summary: The Hunger Games may be hard for Katniss, but other tributes have struggles as well. Even Careers.
1. Named

Light flickered through the filmsy curtains. We may be some of the richest in District 2, but that doesn't mean that we get the luxuries of District 1.

I sigh and turn over in bed, my heavy eyelids wishing to be closed again. No sleep usually leads to me being more tired than anyone could consider possible. Father usually calls me the walking dead when I get down to breakfast like this.

"Clove! Get up, reaping day!" I almost groan when I hear Lisbeth's voice call down the hall. My little sister may be adorable, but she acts way too much like she owns the house.

"I'm coming, give me a second!" I yell back, scrunching up my eyes as I drag the covers back. I pull on a blouse which Mother has left out for me, and match it with a tight, dark red skirt. The family colour. I brush it down and pull my hair into something resembling a bun, then grab a simple necklace from the dresser and nestle it into my blouse. After peering into the mirror, I get out a little make-up that Mother once treated me to when she came back from District 1.

There. I don't look like some sort of nightmare any more.

"Good morning, Clove." My Father's usual monotone voice has somehow been replaced with his excited, reaping day tone. In some ways, it's worse.

"Good morning, Father." I take my seat beside Lisbeth at the breakfast table and pick out some toast. I take a bite, but it doesn't take me long to discover that I have no appetite.

"Big day. Clove, you're nearly 18, and I think that you should at least take a shot and volunteer as the female tribute, don't you think that too, Saffra?" He turns to Mother with questioning eyes, and I feel the stress kick in. The same thing happens every year. Father asks me to volunteer and I never do.

Mother simply nods once at his question, then turns back to her cooking, an audible hum of annoyance slipping from her lips.

"Look, Clove, we only want what's best for you. You work hard at training all the time, you should at least try. I'm sure you'd win." I frown when he finishes his sentence, the hesitance in his words doesn't really bring confidence and a boost of esteem.

"I think she'd die straight away." Lisbeth smiles, a cruel, twisted smile that I know she inherited from me. It's sarcastic and mean, and that's just how our family like to be seen.

"Well thank you, Lisbeth," I smirk and stand up, clearing the table slowly, "but I think that you underestimate me." My fingers find their way to a table knife, and before anyone knows it, I've thrown it and it's rammed into the handle of the window which Lisbeth was about to open.

"Clove! I've told you, no knives indoors!"

The crowd is jostling this way and that; my hair has long since been ripped from it's bun, probably by some Slum child who wanted my grips to trade for a cracker. I almost retch at the thought of my pretty hair clip being in the hands of some grimy, filthy little scum from the outskirts.

I look around. District 2 is all in black and white, very smart and sensible. I feel very out of place with a red skirt, but I keep the snarl on my face so no-one notices my embarrassment. The Mayor's Daughter. What a great title. I sigh and walk with the rest of the 16 year old girls, over to the registry. We sign our names and skirt around the rather aggressive looking Peacekeepers, and soon I find myself with Lisbeth. At just 13, she spent the morning in a hyped, giggly mood. She uses her excitement to conceal her nerves, and it works. I pat her on her head, her dark hair rippling beneath my touch.

"Will you volunteer, Clove?" She asks, and I sense pain in her voice, something I wasn't expecting.

"Maybe. I don't know." I feel a lump of bile rise in my throat. I didn't want to, but Father might beat Lisbeth and me , like he did last year.

"Well then, welcome to the reaping of the 74th Annual Hunger Games!" A shrill voice bounces through the crowd, snapping me into reality. Pentha Orkett, the bubbly escort for District 2, is stood on the stage, her bright blue hair cascading down her shoulders and almost blinding me with the intense light it was managing to reflect. Her stupid orange tweed suit is fitted to her petite frame, just like it is every year. She smiles widely and our District falls silent.

"Welcome all of you. We have been having slight issues with the technology today," The irritated mumble in her voice as she glares at the mechanic almost makes me chuckle, "so we'll get right to the tributes, shall we not?" She strides over to the large bowl of names and I feel Lisbeth's hand slip into mine. I squeeze it gently in reassurance. We don't have to put our names in for Tesserae, we have enough food as it is, so the chance of us being reaped is extremely slim.

"And our female tribute for this year's game is..." Her stubby fingers grasp a piece of paper and she unfolds it slowly. The tension builds, but it just annoys me.

"Our female tribute is Clove Roxen!"

_That's not me, surely not. There has to have been a mistake._

_Snap yourself out of it, Clove, this is what you've always wanted._

My feet shuffle and people part in front of me, making a path for me to walk to the stage. I take my time, but try to look confident and ready. Someone whispers, "She'll lose, she's the Mayor's Daughter." and I stop.

"Who said that?" My voice is clear and collected, which is surprising. Several people back up, and a few point to a young boy of about 14, who looks terrified. I tower over him, the two year age gap making me the stronger one. I spit in his face, to the disgust of many women, then move on.

"Clove Roxen, is it? Are you not the Mayor's Daughter?" Pentha giggles and drags me up to the microphone.

"Yes I am." I smile a little to myself; yet again, I sound stern and pleased, not the crazy, muddled and jumbled feelings thundering through my stomach.

"Well then, there's our female tribute! And now, onto the boys!" She moves away, leaving me stranded by the microphone. I glare into the crowd, picking out faces I know and staring at them. My hands are rested by my sides, there's nothing else I can do but stand and look awkward. I barely notice Pentha grab another piece of paper and read out another name, until she's asking me to shake hands with the male tribute of District 2.

Cato Kaeron.


	2. Offended

**Thank you so much for reading the first chapter! This is my first proper fanfiction, and the amount of support I got on twitter is incredible!**

**Clove is a really hard character to write, so I hope I've done her justice! This chapter is almost double the length of the last one, I had half of it already written, which is why it's out so fast!**

**Thank you again for reading, and I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>I stop, freeze. My palms begin to sweat and I can feel my eyesight blurring slightly. Cato Kaeron. No, no way. I couldn't ever dream of anything like this happening. I glance at the steps to see a boy shakily making his way down them. Which means Cato must have volunteered. I'm almost sick, nothing makes sense. My hand is forcefully taken by him, and I don't even try to fight back as he shakes it. I'm in too much of a daze to care.<p>

Cato Kaeron is the boy who I met at training when I was just 9. He took the opportunity to pick on me, seeing as he was a year older and a hell of a lot taller. He had barely insulted me before I slammed my fist into his face, then kicked him, hard. In response, I got a lot of cursing and a very harsh glare.

After that, he ignored me. For a long time. Until we were forced to train together when I was 14. He got me in a headlock and continuously whispered in my ear that he could kill me 'right there and then' until I started to screech and bite and kick. He seemed happy with my failed attempts of hitting him before I managed to grab his thick hair on the back of his head and yank it, pulling him to the floor. I grabbed a knife from the sideboard and pinned his arms to the ground, a visible smirk plastered all over my face. He rolled and pulled me with him, and I dropped the knife, leaving us to wrestle, which wasn't my strong point. He won, of course, but a lot of laughter followed and we became what I liked to know as acquaintances, but he, for some reason, knew as friends. We barely spoke, but if we did, it was jokey and confident. At least we got on without arguments, which Cato managed to pick with everyone he saw.

"Clove?" Pentha calls out to me as she shoves me off the stage and into the Justice Building. I snap out of the past and my eyes begin to focus again.

"What?" I snap, shaking my shoulders to release her grip on them.

"You just seemed a bit, distant. Are you alright? I know this is a bit of a shock, especially for someone like you, you know, Mayor's Daughter and -" I flip out then.

"Just shut up! Mayor's Daughter, isn't that great! Just because I led a sheltered childhood doesn't mean that I'm not ready for this, you ditz!" I scream and spin around to face her. I spot a knife on the wall and almost leap to grab it, but decide in my head not to try to murder my mentor, not now anyway. I launch myself at Pentha, my fingers in claws.

"Clove!" I'm suddenly being pulled backwards into someone's chest, but I continue to try and pull myself free. It's no use. Their grip is way too strong, "Clove, calm down..." I recognise the voice and try to rip myself out of his grip.

"Cato, let me _go_!" My voice is shrill and painful, it doesn't sound like me, and I like that in a way. It's mysterious and different. Cato doesn't know who I am yet.

Pentha, by this time, has the Peacekeepers running up the steps. They release Cato's grip on me, and push me into a room, locking the door.

Great.

I hear Cato yelling at the Peacekeepers for a long time before they manage to shut him up. Then comes the sound of sobbing, which is obviously coming from his parents. Not mine.

"Clove! Clove!" Lisbeth. I grab at the handle and shake it, my face scrunching up with the effort. I can't open it. But when I stand back, the handle turns and Lisbeth flies into my arms, followed by a Peacekeeper with a key.

"5 minutes." He mumbles, then leaves, locking the door tightly as he does.

"Clove, I didn't think that you would really be reaped, I didn't want you to volunteer either, someone should have volunteered and they didn't, I'm so sorry, I just -"

"Shh, calm down. Lisbeth, its fine. I'll win, won't I?" Tears are pouring down her face by this point, and its hard to keep them from escaping from my eyes as well.

"Yes." That cracks her. That one word, which she doesn't even believe, causes her to start to sob harder than ever. She collapses in my arms and stays there, curled up. I sit and wrap her hair around my fingers, trying not to cry myself. I don't want to show weakness, not now. Not when she needs me to stay calm.

"That's it. Time's up." The Peacekeeper, who I hadn't noticed enter, grabs Lisbeth's elbow and pulls her away from me.

"You can do it Clove, you can win, you can! Remember that we -" The door blocks of the rest of her words. I know that my parents aren't coming. They don't want to shame themselves. They want to be seen as proud parents, who don't need to say goodbye to their daughter, because they know that she'll come back.

I'm still angry at Cato, and Pentha. Actually, I'm angry at everyone. I grab a vase from the sideboard and throw it, screaming, to let out the pain. The door bursts open yet again, more Peacekeepers. I'm outside with Pentha before I know it. Both Cato and I are surrounded by the men in white suits, separating us. They don't want a dead tribute before the Game starts, do they?

"Now, you two need to calm down. Clove, you especially." Pentha glares at me, then continues her speech, "Now, we're going to get the train to the Capitol, like with every Hunger Games. You will look strong. You're allied, OK? You have to look cruel and completely ready. _Not_ mental." She shoots me another look of hatred.

"Right. Allies." Cato's voice comes from behind what seems like a wall of men.

"Yes. Any funny business and you'll pay for it. Oh, and we're meeting the mentors later. They prefer to stay in the Capitol these days. Lysander, mainly. Hallien makes trips to District 2 sometimes, but she doesn't really like it." Pentha pursed her lips, probably trying not to agree with Hallien's opinion. Stupid Capitol bimbos, "Anyway, lets go. Prepare yourself for a lot of cameras, by the way." She flashes us a smile.

The journey to the train is a blur. We're hoarded into a car, and driven to the train station, where a crowd awaits us. Cato looks positively terrifying, his large build providing a good image. I take a peek at the screens as we make our way to the train doors, and see that I look rather sarcastic and laid back. Perfect. I jump backwards when Cato tries to help me up the steps and onto the train. Any connection that I could feel towards that boy must be broken. I'll have to kill him sometime.

"Well, what's this year's batch like." Hallien's sweet, sticky voice makes me retch; she sounds so unnatural and fake. We're just a batch to her, another set of tributes to try and get to the final two. Even though she was there at one point, the Capitol have managed to transform her into another molded, perfect victor. She shakes our hands with a glistening smile plastered all over her face. I try to seem happy about this, seeing as she is our mentor and could just save my life, but inside all I feel is disgust.

"So, what can you tell us?" Cato leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. I stare at him for a second, but shake it off and nod.

"We'll get down to business in a second. Lets just watch the reapings through first." I jump out of my seat, hostile, scared of who's behind me, but it's Lysander. Lysander, with the messy blonde hair and cocky expression. I force myself not to spit on him, which has for some reason become a way of letting out my feelings, and sit back down. Cato looks at me, a worried and caring frown on his face, but I simply snarl in return. He quickly restores his aggressive mindset, his head turned towards the screen which has begun sputtering to life.

"District 1. We expect you to be allies with these two, because they've been training as well. Clove, I know you've been training a while, but you're not yet 18. So trust them more when it comes to tactics." I tell myself to breathe slowly when Hallien offends my training yet again, "In fact, I'm not sure why no-one volunteered for you. Unless the training officials didn't think that any 18 year olds would be suitable for the job this year."  
>"Or maybe because she's good enough to be a tribute." Cato's words shock me, why is he sticking up for me? "She can throw knives like a professional. Most girls in training are terrified of her. Have you considered that?" Hallien glares at him, his reasoning makes sense. But I'm only 16, usually people fight to get to the stage first, but when I was reaped, there was nothing.<p>

"How about we all shut up and watch the reapings?" I struggle to keep my voice under control as Lysander fiddles with the buttons on the remote.

We miss half of District 1's broadcast thanks to our arguing, but I catch their names. Glimmer, a beautiful, blonde-haired girl, volunteers. She'll get plenty of sponsors with a body like that. Marvel, a scrawny, tall boy, with sinewy arms, but a determined expression, takes his place alongside her. He can't take his eyes off the girl he's next to.

Then our reaping plays. I get reaped, I spit on the 14 year old, then make my way to the stage. I look sort of evil, but with a thoughtful expression on my face. Like I'm considering what ways I'm going to kill everyone. Maybe that's why no-one volunteered. Because I looked like I had the whole thing under control. A small boy gets his name reaped, but there's a number of shouts from a large group of boys, who part to make way for Cato. Rather impressive, really. We shake hands and that's that.

A few reapings go by in a blur. I analyse the screen looking for their weak points, not caring for their names or their crying parents. A pretty girl from 3, a boy from 4 who looks like he's spent most of his time rolling around in the mud, a young, thin, redhead from 5 who looks like she has everything planned, a boy with a large build from 8, who looks like he's about to burst into tears when his name is called.

Somehow, District 11 shocks me. A girl, Rue Harnoa, is reaped. The camera takes seconds to find her in the crowd, and I sense Cato gripping the chair when she's revealed. She doesn't even look old enough to be there, about 10. She tiny, but her wide eyes show determination and confidence, something completely unexpected. She walks up to the stage without a fuss, no tears or tantrums, and stands there. She looks so petite, like she'll be blown away with the breeze. Her male counterpart stands close beside her when his name is taken from the bowl, protecting her with his dangerously large frame. He looks like he'll be competition, but I don't care. I sit and stare at the little girl who looks completely fearless, even though she's just been chosen to be thrown into an arena with several teenagers who'll be trying to kill her. That's what the Capitol have done. Made little girls into soldiers, who aren't scared of death and destruction.

Then comes District 12. It goes past before I realise what's happening. A girl named Primrose Everdeen is read by the glamorous Effie Trinket, who I know from the reapings I've been watching since I was 2. Another girl pushes her back, screaming that she'll volunteer. She climbs the steps and responds calmly when Effie asks her who she is. Katniss Everdeen. Primrose's older sister. Someone with the surname of Mellark is named, and they shake hands. The Capitol emblem is shown, the anthem is played, then the screen goes black.


	3. Confused

**Wow, I seem to be getting chapters out pretty quickly! I got a lot of questions about the volunteering, it's all explained in this chapter. I wanted to get this out today because I'm going away over the next couple of days, it's Easter after all. I hope you like what I've written.**

**Thank you again for your lovely comments and support!**

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><p>"Clove? Clove, get back here! We need to talk tactics, now!" Lysander's voice doesn't have an affect on me as I march out of the compartment. I don't want this. Any of it. However grand people manage to make it sound, it's really not. I've just witnessed watching 23 people's names be read out, the names of people I'm going to have to try to murder.<p>

"She's an idiot, she'll get nowhere in these games, I can tell you." I have the urge to march right back in and slap Hallien for that comment, but I rest my back against the side of the corridor and listen to what they have to say about me when I'm not there.

"Shut up. Just shut up about her, OK? She doesn't deserve this. Maybe she's nervous. But trust me, she'll win this thing." Cato. Why? Why is he making me like him, why is he standing up for me, why is he doing this?

"And how do you know she'll win it?" Lysander's voice is hushed, maybe he knows that I'm outside the door. There's silence for a minute, they're probably all sizing each other up and looking for weapons around the car.

"Let me talk to her."

I sidle down the corridor, trying to stay out of sight, and make a number of turns. The train is like a maze, if that's even possible.

"What the hell was that, Clove?" I gasp as I'm spun around and shoved against the wall. Cato looks dangerous, and for the first time, instead of feeling envy when I look at him, I feel fear.

"What was what?" I glare at him. We stare each other down for a minute, then he lets go, sighing. I stay where I am, though. I want a reason before I leave, and so does he.

"Look, I know you're probably scared, Clove, and -"

"I'm not a little girl, Cato! I know how to look after myself, OK? I can defend myself. I've been training since I was tiny." My voice is still quiet, I don't want Lysander or Hallien dragging us apart. I want to get my point across, at least.

"You still are tiny." He smirks and looks down on me.

"Shut up."

"Why?" The humour in his voice is annoying. This isn't a joke.

"You are so _stupid_, Cato Kaeron! I wish I was at home, and someone had volunteered. Actually, why aren't I at home?" He smiles again when I say his name, and I snarl in return. He seems so natural and kind when he's not being a - No. I can't think like that. I'm going into a death match with him.

"I'm not supposed to tell you." I gasp. He knows something I don't.

"What? What's happening, Cato?"

"Like I said, I'm not supposed to tell you." The cockiness in his manner makes me want to punch him, like our first meeting.

"Doesn't mean you can't, though."

"I was waiting for you to say that."

"Tell me, then." I cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow.

"Fine. The Volunteer Board. They saw you train the other day. This sounds so stupid, but they knew you would be reaped. When you were ill, a few weeks ago, they called a meeting. They told no female to volunteer. Most girls were just angry, because it was their last chance, you know? But a lot were quite thankful. The girls weren't exactly strong this year. They thought you'd be better than most of the 18 year olds."

"So they messed with the system so an under 18 could be tribute." I realise how angry I sound. I'm shaking. This isn't possible. They'd taken my name out on purpose, "Did Pentha know?"

"I think so, but don't go back there, Clove. Please. I don't want you dead before the arena."

"Yeah, you don't want me dead before the arena. Because when we're in the arena you can kill me yourself." I spit out my words, my fists clenched.

"No Clove. No." He looks at me properly, staring hard into my eyes. His are blue. Large, blue, and glittering slightly. I blink and shake myself out of his gaze, which I feel I was falling into.

"What do you mean?" I look at the floor, my head a jumbled mess.

"We're allies. I won't kill you." His feet are shuffling slightly as he speaks.

"Until we're the last two left, what will you do then?" There's a long pause, in which we both manage to find each other's gaze again. He frowns a little, and I want to know what's running through his head.

"I'll work something out." He turns and walks away from me.

I edge back into the room slowly, Lysander and Hallien raise their eyebrows when I do.

"Finally decided to come back, then?" Hallien questions with another sweet smile. I nod, trying not to show emotion. Cato's trying to catch my eye and I'm ignoring him. I'm not going to show the mentors, or Pentha, any knowledge of the conversation we shared. Pentha's examining my expression, trying to pick faults in it. I keep my head high and try to hold back my anger. She knew all along.

"Well then, tactics?" Lysander stands up from the large armchair he was slouching in, "We know that you two are pretty skilled with weapons. Cato, Pentha has told me about your swords. And Clove, we heard you were good with knives?" He turns to me and I smile a little.

"Maybe." I can already feel my mouth twisting into a cocky smirk, something I feel comfortable with. Lysander picks up a dessert knife from the sideboard, which is covered in extravagant cakes and nibbles.

"Show us what you can do, then." He points to a cake, a huge, tiered thing that looks like it should belong in a Capitol wedding reception. I grin, knowing what he wants me to do.

"I need more knives." He hands me a couple of teaspoons instead, which make me laugh. Pentha backs up and I laugh again. Is she scared of me? Hallien nods and Lysander stands beside her. Cato is staring at me intently, waiting for me to throw. His gaze is distracting, and my stomach twists and turns.

"Go on then." Lysander has one eyebrow raised in disdain, he doesn't think I can do it. I raise the knife to my shoulder and throw it, watching as it slices the cake in two. Lysander claps and I can see a genuine smile on his lips and in his eyes. This gives me confidence and I throw the spoons with ease, cutting off chunks for each of us. Hallien actually looks impressed, but Pentha looks terrified. At least she knows now that I could kill her if I wanted to.

"Nice." Cato pats my arm and hands me a piece of cake.

"Thanks, but you're more likely to impress than I am." I laugh and pick apart the cake thoughtfully.

"Not really. That was pretty amazing." He's doing it again. Standing close beside me and making me awkward and confused. I sit down, on a separate chair, away from him. Leaving the conversation as soon as it starts. I can't afford to form any sort of close bond with him. Even friendship.

"Look! Look at it!" Cato's out of his seat and at the window almost as fast as me. The Capitol. It stands tall and proud. 2 sleepless nights on a train. Long, painful conversations about death and tactics. Now we're here. Now we're allowed to calm down and just train like we do at home, for a few weeks, at least.

"That's incredible." At least Cato can form words, whilst I'm completely speechless. The train station is clogged with people, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of us. I take one look at Cato, who has a huge smile on his face, and turn back to the Capitol citizens, smiling alongside him. We're supposed to be happy to be here. This is the first time that I almost feel that. The train slows to a halt and we get pulled from the window and bustled to another exit. I almost feel sorry for the screaming, gaudy members of the public. They probably expect us to glide through the crowd and embrace their bets and drunken sponsor promises, but we don't.

"There's 1." Cato mutters in my ear, and cocks his head towards the group in front of us. I spot her immediately, Glimmer. Her long, wavy blonde hair bounces down her back as she struts across the platform, followed by Marvel, who still can't stop staring at her. I can see her eyes, which are a startling bright shade of green, glowing softly. She's wearing a dress, and I couldn't imagine her in anything else. It's embedded with glitter, and shimmers slightly as she turns. Marvel's in a tan jacket and fitted trousers, which make him look less outgrown than he did in what he wore at the reaping. I catch his eye and wink, hoping that the alliance idea works. He grins back and I know that we might just have our Career pack sorted.

"They don't seem all that lame this year." I stretch onto my tiptoes and whisper into Cato's ear. The height difference must look hilarious to everyone else, "We definitely won't be without sponsors."

"We'll be without brains though." His teeth grind together as he mumbles back, and I can't help the loud giggle burst from my lips. Glimmer and brains don't seem to match.

"Maybe we can get someone from 3 to help, or something."

"Yeah, maybe. You're pretty smart though. Well, smarter than her." He nods at Glimmer, who's shamelessly flirting with a Peacekeeper, batting her eyelashes and shaking her hair. Typical 1.

"Sort of. You never know, though. She might be smarter than she looks." I press my lips together and try not to smile, but as soon as I turn back to Cato, we both erupt into laughter again.

"You two, remake's this way." Pentha shakes her head and marks something on her clipboard, then points to the large, white building in front of us.


End file.
